The Ghosts of Repentance Past
by Meepyonnee
Summary: Mai Taniyama was branded as a lunatic when she was a child. Months later, when she was finally 'cured'... uh well, she wasn't. She still sees them, hears them, talks to them. Add dead parents, a weird job with equally weird co-workers, an infuriating narcissist she (might have) met a year ago, and a shortage of Pocky into the mix... Voila! We have one 'Poor Little Mai'.
1. Blue

Disclaimer: Ghost Hunt is not mine. I am merely borrowing the characters and the general setting from the great Fuyumi Ono-sensei. Besides, if I owned it, Mai and Naru would've kissed or something. Maybe even just one more hug... or a fist bump.

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Chapter 1

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_Beep beep beep beep be—_

Damn alarm clock.

…_eep beep beep beep beep beep b—_

Fine. You win. I turn off the devil and _try _to sit up. I stay like that for what seems like hours until sleep wins and pulls me back under the covers.

Sunlight streaming through my blinds claims me back from my happy place. My hands find their way to my eyes to rub rub rub out the grogginess as I sit up. I glance at the alarm clock and notice that I have less than forty minutes to get ready for school. _Shit._

_Okay, Mai. Don't panic. First things first. _I grab my uniform and toss it to the living room sofa, hunt for bread and thrust it in the toaster, and finally run to the bathroom.

After the fastest shower I've ever taken in my entire life, I put on my uniform and snatch my not-warm toast. A death sprint was needed so I hurriedly head to school and hope that Sensei won't be mad.

Oh gods. Kinoshita-sensei is going to murder me. Why did he have to be my first class teacher? He even teaches math. And we have a quiz today. Why the hell did I ignore my annoying alarm clock? Why do Monday mornings suck? Why, why, why does the universe hate me? I've never tormented cute little kittens in my lifetime. Maybe I did some great sin in my past life; like drowning kittens. Why am I so fixated on kittens anyway? Sure they're cute and cuddl—

"Oof," Whoa, head rush. Note to self: never run through the town like the shinigami was after you whilst thinking about furry wide-eyed baby mammals.

"Watch where you're going," A cold voice stated. Oh right, I bounced off of something. I glance up to survey the damage and got rewarded with a beautiful sight; before me stood a boy a head taller than me in a grey shirt and black slacks. He's roughly my age and he has beautiful, god-like features. His heart-shaped face is framed with black locks that reach until his sharp chin. His prominent nose sitting between those piercing blue eyes and his _lips. _Those perfectly kissa— "You ruined my book."

I snap out of my drool-inducing reverie and take a look at my surroundings. The beautiful landscape of the park near my school assault my senses. I am apparently beside a fountain with a blue book floating in it. I reached for it immediately but it was already too late; it was thoroughly soaked.

"I'm so sorry! Look, I can pay you for it," I begin rummaging my bag for my pitifully thin wallet. "How much was it?" Why can't I run into this gorgeous boy without any casualties? Now his first impression of me will be of klutziness. The universe definitely hates me.

"Do you study at that school?" He asks dryly as he points behind him. I nod stupidly and wonder why he was asking me a question instead of getting mad like a normal person because I drowned his book. Not that I'm complaining though. His saccharine voice is very, very attractive. "The bell for the first class rang three minutes ago."

"What?!" I exclaim. Oh gods no. I don't want to have 'Death by the hands of a math teacher' written on my death certificate. I don't want to die yet, period.

I run like crazy again towards my school and pray for my life.

-:-:-:-:-

"Sensei! I'm sorry, it won't happen again!" I gasp out the lame apology through bouts of wheezes.

"Mai, chill. You still have ten minutes left," Keiko giggled. And I was even ready to kneel down and beg for forgiveness.

"Huh?" I tug Keiko's left wrist and glance at her watch. It says 6:51. I glance at my watch next: '7:06'. I groan mentally.

"You forgot that you set your watch early again, did you?" said a smug voice behind me. I look behind me and spot a grinning Michiru. "What d'ya have there?" I follow her gaze to see my right hand still holding the stranger's book. The title's in English so I couldn't read it. I can't understand anything on the pages since it's sopping wet; it's a moot point anyway to try and read it since all I can decipher are periods, commas, question marks and exclamation points.

"Oh, this is nothing. I just found it in a fountain," I said passively as I sit on the teacher's desk behind me.

Why did he lie to me? The bell couldn't have possibly rung minutes ago.

That jerk.

-:-:-:-:-

"Hey Mai, my mom made a bento for you," Michiru hands me a rectangle wrapped in pink cloth. "You should sleep over tonight, my mom insists," She added with a smile.

"Thanks, Michiru. And, no, I'm sorry. I have something to do later. Tell your mom that I appreciate the offer," I reply with an equally friendly smile. Actually, I don't have anything to do. I just don't like depending on anyone for my mundane needs. Besides, Michiru's family already did so much for me when my mom passed away last year.

My mom and Michiru's mom were childhood friends. They were very close, almost like real sisters. When Dad died, Mom only cried to Michiru's mom. I myself only saw her cry twice after my dad's death: the first during a phone call from the hospital, and the second during the funeral. Both were incidents not meant for little Mai.

My father died in a car crash because of me. I was a little kid back then so I didn't know what to do. I was riding my newly acquired tricycle and I decided to go to the open road to impress my parents. I vividly remember how frozen I was as the truck was speedily heading to me. I remember how my parents were shouting at me to run. I remember how dad saved me. I remember how he died in front of my eyes.

I couldn't even recall much about him. I wish I had more memories with him. One thing that I do remember is: when I was five, just a few months before he gets into that accident, he brought me to this beautiful lake. He said that this is where he first met mom and that this is where he proposed. He laughed so hard when he told me that he was so incredibly nervous during the proposal that he almost dropped the ring in the lake. He thanked the heavens and all the gods when my mom said 'Yes' anyway. They loved each other very much. I hope that when I grow older I find my other half too.

Mom fell into depression when Dad died in that accident, but she stayed strong for me. She worked hard to secure my future and to pay off enormous debts. Her body eventually got weaker day by day because of the three jobs she needed, and because of accumulating stress. She did not even sleep for days at a time.

Mom fell ill and joined my father after nine years of hard work.

I miss them terribly.

The bell signifying that lunch is over rang.

-:-:-:-:-

Hmm, so I need ten more cups of ramen for me to survive the next week, some onigiri, instant curry, rice, and miso soup packets.

_But first, I shall linger more here at the park._

Because I am most certainly _not _looking for someone.

"Better get going then," I sigh. I head to the convenience store but something bumped my foot so I stopped. I look down and grab the pink ball and look around for the owner. My plain brown eyes spot a four-ish girl in an orange sundress and white sandals running in my direction.

"Hi there," I was almost cooing. She's _so_ cute! "Is this yours?" I show her the ball.

She nods shyly and I hand it to her. "Thank you, onee-san!" she exclaims in a squeaky voice and runs back to her family.

"Megumi, don't just disappear like that! Otou-san might lose you and then I'd probably cry so much that everyone in Japan will drown!" Megumi's father joked with a goofy grin pasted on his face. The child just giggled and continued to play with her ball.

I sigh again, this time for a completely different reason.

After buying the needed stuff from the neighborhood's convenience store, and a few other stuff that I want (read: Pocky), I head home.

The apartment I stay in was a little run down. The outer wall's paint was chipped and the building itself much older than me, but the landlord and the other tenants are good to me so it's still a nice place to stay in. Mom had to sell our old house when Dad died because of the debts she couldn't handle and we bought this apartment instead. The unit is too big for me now that I'm alone. It has two bedrooms but I don't dare move someplace else even though the move would probably make a sizable amount of money. My mom and I have precious memories here. And I don't dare move out since I have a bathtub in there.

"I'm home," I desolately greet my empty abode. "Good afternoon Mom, Dad," I kiss each of their photos and head to the bathroom for my much deserved lavender-scented bath.

-:-:-:-:-


	2. Extra Credit

Chapter 2

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"Hey, do you guys know the new band 'K' that debuted last month? The title song of their first album actually reached the top of MTV's music chart last week!" Keiko gushed and giggled like the normal school girl she is.

"Yes!" Michiru exclaimed. Her eyes had that glazed over look when one thinks about hunks and cute guys and whatnot. Just a while ago we were peacefully eating our respective lunches, and then Keiko suddenly popped about a new commodity like she was a ticking bomb this whole time. "They're so dreamy. The lead singer's voice sounds oh so manly and his handsome face totally commands all attention from the band's fans," she stood up and acted as if she was on stage and started singing a song. The lyrics were full of dread, rebellion and repetitions. I don't understand why it was popular.

"Ah, but the drummer is the finest looking specimen I've ever seen with my own two eyes. He beats the lead singer hands-down," Keiko tsked, having the aura of an old, experienced guru. Michiru started to protest but Keiko stopped her by raising her right hand calmly. "Of course the drummer is the best; not only is he hot, he is also amazing with his instrument. Didn't you hear his drum solos? Tell me you don't think they're awesome," the fangirl's smugness is oozing off her gaudy smirk.

Handsome, eh? I've seen the finest looking specimen too. I even butchered the only chance I got with him by slaughtering his book.

"I don't know them. Are they in the company that was rumored to have lip-syncing singers?" I commented nonchalantly. Media can't reach the rock I live under because I don't have my own television since having one means more electricity, and more electricity means having a more expensive electricity bill.

Both of them cried indignantly after hearing my statement and jumped at me with random facts about _K_. They buzzed on and on and on about how great the band was until the lunch bell rang. The girls change tactics by singing another one of the band's dreadful songs at the top of their lungs as we walk to class. My other classmates jumped at them and they too gushed about the new band when we entered the room. I hear them sing along with my two friends. This is my chance to escape. Leggo.

"Good afternoon, class," Yamada-sensei grumbled. It's clear that she was having a bad day. Her eyes had enormous bags under them and her lips in a seemingly permanent scowl. _Better pay attention then. I don't want to be under the wrath of the great Medusa-sensei._It's common knowledge that Medusa from Greek mythology can turn men to stone with just a look into her evil, evil eyes. Well, our very own version can unquestionably freeze any male student under her deathly glare; she can affect female students too! What a treasure we have here in our own humble country.

Medusa droned tediously about teenage rebellion and a boy who loses something important to his school thus getting him expelled. Then he went to New York City after unsuccessfully trying to write a book in his dormitory. He even struggled with his sexuality so he agreed to have a prostitute in his hotel room but when he said that he only wanted to talk to her because he views her as a person, she gets annoyed and leaves taking her pay with her. She comes back later with her pimp to demand more money. Despite the fact that the prostitute took money from the boy's wallet, the pimp still punched him.

_Poor kid,_I mentally remark groggily. After that, everything went dark.

I dream about Medusa and her snake headed glory while she was singing a horrible song about teenage rebellion at a sidewalk, apparently beside a brothel.

When one of the prostitutes _thankfully_ went out with the intention of ending the appalling mini concert with a punch, I was abruptly woken up by a book slammed near my head.

"Miss Taniyama, see me after class," the English teacher says menacingly, her tone promising vengeance. I gulp nervously and nod, unconsciously dropping my gaze to avoid the expected haunting glare behind her glasses.

Class went on for a few more minutes and I was counting each precious second toward my demise. Most of my classmates were giving my pitying looks, the others silently encouraging me or snickering at my misfortune. When the torture of waiting finally ended, I stand up slowly and trudge my way to the door where my immediate death awaits me.

Medusa surprises me with a sympathetic look instead of the murderous one I had anticipated. I stand awkwardly opposite her as I did not know how to deal with this kind of twisted logic.

"Taniyama, I know it's hard to have a delicate situation as yours," she starts. _Oh. _Now I understand. "You have impressive grades for all your subjects, but if you continue at this rate you will surely fail English and lose the scholarship you currently have and the one you will have during high school," she says sympathetically with her matching sympathetic gaze.

I don't respond. I _couldn't respond. _I can't even fathom how deep the shit I might go through to pay for high school when I have to pay for college too.

"That's why I'm giving you extra credit work," my mood lightens with the news but it doesn't last long because of the next statement that rolls out of her lips. "You will do a 2000 word reaction paper on Charles Dickens' _Great Expectations._ The first part will be the summary, second will be the characters connection to one another, and last will be your opinions on the book as a whole."

"Yes, Yamada sensei," I reply gloomily. I don't even understand the English language! How the hell do I write a reaction paper on a book that _thick_ filled with so much English words? And I think that they used a tinnie tiny font for that thing.

_At least the shit you'd have to go through isn't _that _deep._

"The deadline will be on the first day of examinations. Good luck Mai," she says before heading off to the faculty room where she would undoubtedly try to regain the sleep she lost.

-:-:-:-:-

What am I going to do? I can't understand anything even if I force myself. Do I get a tutor or do I self-study? If I get a tutor I could progress rapidly and end this torture already, but that's expensive. So self-inflicted torture it is.

Why didn't I listen to my past English lessons? If I paid attention to my boring teachers I wouldn't have to go through this. I still have a month before the exams so I have plenty of time finishing the damn reaction paper.

But the extra credit assignment will clash with my review for hell week. I sigh audibly.

"C'mon Mai, I know you can do this. Don't give up easily," said Keiko, an infectious smile gracing her features.

"You shouldn't have slept during class," Michiru reprimanded. "Didn't you see the massive eye bags she had?" she whispered as if she was the greatest gossip in Japan, passing on the scoop of the year.

"I know, I know. English is just so b-o-r-i-n-g," I whine pathetically. We head to the shoe racks after fixing our stuff. We say our goodbyes as we part; they live in the opposite direction of my house so we can't walk home together.

I don't even like reading books, even those that I can actually understand.

"Mai, you can do this," when Mai talks to herself and refers to herself in third person, then you know she's in a lot of trouble.

I decide to go to the library to start the thing rather than to prolong it. The Japanese-English dictionary is my new best friend so that's the book I first sought out. The librarian gave me a bunch of other books about learning English. I don't dare look for the very book I'd have to do a reaction paper on yet; it'll just intimidate me with all those small words on hundreds of pages.

_At least now I know the English alphabet and a few common words. _Ugh.

I head home. Since the incident. I've been unconsciously taking the path through the park where I met that strange stranger who lied to me about me being late, now is not an exception. I wonder if a bookstore around here sells another copy of the book I drowned (I still don't know the title). When—_if_ I see him again, I'd have an excuse to talk to him since I'd replace his book. I snort at my foolishness. It seems like the snort was quite loud so a few people gave me strange looks as if I was crazy.

_Meh, I _am _crazy. I frequently converse with dead people after all._

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	3. Wishes

Chapter 3

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Remember the good ole' days when the sun was shining, you could have every single food you can gobble up, and all you had to worry about was finding the exact spot on the sofa, bed or floor you're most comfortable napping on?

Yeah, well, this isn't one of those days.

Today was a day of purgatory, where your friends punish you with spelling, grammar, and a great deal of memorizing. Surely everybody else has experienced this too? If you lot haven't, then damn you all.

My _allegedly_ best friends were shoving all kinds of books I couldn't comprehend right into my face, and then they wait expectantly for me to read aloud the contents of it to them. It wasn't that bad if you look at it at any other person's point of view, but I am me. Me being lazy and slow with new languages, the help they've been trying to give me kinda just bounces off my scumbag brain.

"Seriously Mai, this is easy once you get the hang of it. If you get through this, I promise to get you the tallest stack of ice cream on a waffle-cone you wouldn't possibly topple," Michiru said somewhat encouragingly. _Easy for you to say,_I bitterly remark mentally_._Michiru was at the top of our class. I hear she might even get accelerated next year.

"Really? I don't want a waffle-cone though, I want a _crepe_-cone with lots of ice cream _inside_ of it," I grumble. Speaking of grumbling, my poor tummy was having a mini tantrum at this very moment. It's thrashing and growling and protesting wildly because of the beating it's been through. I ran out of 'proper' food again last night and had to rely on a meager can of glob to last me until sunrise. All I had for breakfast was a cup of sugar-deprived tea and stale raisin bread.

The best part was that the window kept taunting me with _'Oh look at the pretty blue sky. See that beautiful yellow dot in the middle of it? Yep, it's heading west.'_, meaning it was well past midday and I haven't had freaking rice since yesterday. I couldn't survive any day without rice. Even just one spoon of scrumptious white rice (one grain isn't enough, even if I am only exaggerating here) would get me through the day.

_Aaaaaaaand I got sidetracked again._

I peek to my left and see a bored-as-hell expression on Keiko's face. She'd been in charge of teaching me more words and spelling, Michiru with grammar and the actual reaction paper. They've both been relentlessly tutoring me since 11 am, but several excruciating hours later Keiko finally gave up. She taught me lots of course; our smart best friend was just kind of taking over with her smart-ass ways, so Keiko eventually got bored.

"Hey Michiru, let's go get lunch. _Please,_" my spelling teacher begged languidly, simultaneously thumping her forehead repeatedly on the wooden table of the library.

"Yes. Let's. Please. Ugh." I dismally agree, thumping my own forehead in sync with hers.

"Sure, just stop with the head-banging; you both need all the brain cells you're currently losing," the intellectual one jokingly reprimanded. Thy smart comrade was already packing up some of the books.

"Can we leave the books at the counter? I'll stop by later to study more. I think," I said, absently picking at the hem of my sleeve. I _really_ should study more. I only have three more weeks 'til the deadline and the book I'm forced to read was written in Old English. As if the new English wasn't hard enough to understand. To top it all, I need to review for upcoming midterms _and _high school entrance exams. I need throw a tantrum. But I can't. They might think that I was insane.

_Oh, but you are._

Shut up.

"C'mon, I know this place that serves the most mouth-watering sushi you'd ever taste in all of Tokyo!" Keiko exclaimed, dragging both me and Michiru by our elbows toward my freedom.

-:-:-:-:-

My brain is hurting. My back is aching. My legs are numbing. My fingers are sporting multiple paper cuts. My eyes are maybe disgustingly red. My butt really, _really_ needs a cushion.

And yet, I've only been reading the useful junk for about ninety minutes. I groan internally.

I lean forward to drop my forehead on the wooden table with a muted thump.

_I wish I brought a butt pillow,_I silently hoped. I stretch my whole body as far as the narrow chair allowed, and shift my head to face the thick book. Might as well read as much as I can while wallowing in self pity.

Our supposedly quick lunch ended up to be two hours long because of the crazy stories Keiko had to tell, and because of the random English Q & A from Michiru. They had to leave since they also had some homework they must do.

"I wish that I was super smart," I murmured half to myself and half to whoever god out there willing enough to grant my second wish.

I raise my head to take note of my surroundings, but I immediately look down and hope hope hoped that I look nonchalant enough.

There was a spirit standing near the table next to mine. His casual clothes tattered and mangled face bloody. His forlorn eyes fixed at a spot on the wall opposite him. He was eerily pale and absolutely still, as if he was a statue.

_Shit damn ugh. To all the gods who watch over me, please disregard the other two wishes I made earlier and just grant this wish: please please _please _don't let the spirit over there notice me. As cruel as it may be, I really don't have the patience to help him because of the truckload work currently taunting me, and I don't have the strength to deal with more stress right now._

I try to read my notes, but the words kept dancing out of my focus. All the books around me get shoved away by my frantic arms so that I can fold them in front of me. I tuck my head on them and try to look asleep.

I was six when I first saw an apparition. It was when my mom and I had just moved out from our old house and to the apartment I'm living in now. The ghost was my dad.

I woke up because of a chill one summer night. I stood up and headed to a cabinet to yank out a blanket since I didn't have one beside me. I wrapped it around my little body and tucked half my face under.

I open my eyes for the second time because feel someone sitting at the foot of my bed. A man in his early thirties was looking straight at me, his neat brown hair framing his handsome face perfectly.

He moved forward and reached out to stroke my cheek affectionately and my eyes water instantly. He just smiled and said 'I love you' several times; however little six-year-old me answered back with 'I'm sorry' every time he said those three words. He only left when I finally replied with 'I love you too, Daddy'.

The next morning, after animatedly telling Mom about my 'dream', I was faced with the predicament of a tight-lipped mother and a plain bento without colorful character shaped food partnered with a bottle of a non-orangey drink.

I never saw him again after that ironically cold summer night. I had lots of 'imaginary friends' after that incident though. They were everywhere; at school, at my neighborhood, at the park my mom used to take me to, at my friends' houses, and... you get the point.

There was this one boy who frequently visited me. At one point, he was with me for a full week. I randomly called him Tommy because he refused to tell me his name. Tommy was very annoying; trying to get me to respond to him every time another person was having a conversation with me, and ignoring me when we were finally alone. He was the reason I landed myself at a psychiatric doctor's soft but itchy couch.

My doctor told my mother that I had mild schizophrenia because I had the symptoms of it. I was having 'disordered thought and speech,' and 'hallucinations'. They didn't put me on drugs, though. They gave me mandatory bi-weekly visits with the doctor instead.

I stopped visiting the damn doctor who constantly said 'And how do you feel about that' when Tommy finally disappeared a few months later. His last words to me were 'Mama found me'. The only reason I still kept seeing the doctor the last few months was because I refused to ignore Tommy. I was the only one he could talk to and I felt sorry for him.

I never believed for one second that they 'cured' me. I always saw spirits, even in the doctor's clinic. I learned two lessons after having all those aggravating check-ups nevertheless: shut up about seeing the glowing people, and never talk to them again.

The second lesson was ignored last year since I talked to my mother's spirit a month after she died. Like my father, she was sitting at the edge of my bed. Unlike the experience with my father though, Mom stayed with me for three days. She popped in and out of my peripheral vision when I was at home. I told her about what I did at school, what tests I think I failed, how Michiru and Keiko were doing. She replied either with a cheerful smile or giggle.

I also said 'I'm sorry' most of the time, and she replied with a smile every time. They were never cheerful.

Mom left on the third night when I told her 'to go to Daddy and leave me' and 'I'll be fine'.

After that encounter, I talked to other spirits to get them to move on too. I didn't often succeed because some were still waiting for something or someone. Those who moved on with my help were people who committed suicide because of loneliness. They only wanted someone to talk to.

"Hey idiot, wake up. You've been sleeping for nearly three hours already," a cool voice told me. I look up to see a handsome, almost emotionless face framed by contrasting midnight black hair. His perfect lips were in a tight line, but his striking azure eyes had a hint of mischief.

Shit shit shit god oh god, why did you have to let him see me like this? I might even have drool on my face right now. Gah. Do I have something on my face? Does my breath stink? Are my clothes alright? Is every strand of hair on my head in the right place?

"Um," I timidly mumble. Yup. That was my genius response.

"You know, if you're trying to understand the English language on your own, sleeping on the job doesn't help," he offhandedly commented. My dictionary nested on his left hand and my notebook on his right. One of his eyebrows rose as he scanned my notes. Maybe my handwriting wasn't legible enough. Maybe I drew his face somewhere in there.

"You know, none of my business is your business anyway," I scathingly retort. Sure, Mai. Drive the beautiful attractive gorgeous delectable heavenly divine young man further away.

"Of course," he said. His annoyingly indifferent responses were getting to be really _annoying. _If he never opened his mouth, he'd be the man of every girl's dreams.

He dropped my books, pushed his chair back, got up, and freaking walked away.

And I just gaped at his shamrock-green clad back until he exited the library.

_That jerk._

I don't know what to think of him. Does he annoy me for fun? Because he was bored? Or maybe because he... _nah_.

Damn. This was maybe my last chance at a civil conversation with him, and I killed it like how I also killed his book.

Now that I think about it, he didn't even ask about his dead book.

I gather my books and head home seeing as I can't study since I can't focus on anything anymore because of the ill mannered—but gorgeous—jerk.

The timeless sakura trees surround me as I trudge home using the park path, the light of the sunset hitting every petal perfectly. I've been unconsciously using this path ever since I met that stupid jerk almost two weeks ago. _Unconsciously_ being the key word.

I greet Nishi-san, the apartment's landlord, on my way up to the second floor. He and his wife live right next to my unit. I feel very safe because of their presence, I don't care that they're already ancient.

"I'm home," I mutter to my dark, not-really-homely residence.

-:-:-:-:-


	4. Chocolate

Chapter 4

-:-:-:-:-

My life sucks.

To defend that statement, I have prepared various facts-turned-problems; first off, my parents are dead. Yes, yes. _Poor little Mai_. Hey, I miss them terribly, duh; it's just that this problem caused the next, which is—dun dun duuuunnn—I have no more Pocky. My cupboard refused to barf out any more of the red boxes that I adore oh so much. Since I have no parents to pester for money to spend, I can't buy more.

Poor little Mai must eat the two things daily to have her survive 'til the end of her wonderfully tragic life: Rice and Pocky. Those two are totally not related to each other but they must absolutely be consumed everyday for her to think straight (an imaginary doctor who went _cuckoo_ in Mai's head's strict orders).

Which led to suck-ish problem number three: poor little Mai needs to hand in a reaction paper on a book that's only understood by people from thousands of years ago, but her brain cells can only make sense of the literature from this decade. Good thing I have six more days to finish it, eh?

The English language was surprisingly easy to learn with the help of my little minions, though I don't have any minions at the moment to help me understand the sayings of the dead Charles Dickens, nor do I have any patience with le internet to google for assistance.

The almighty Google couldn't solve the third problem anyway. Guess why.

Certainly I could have just searched for a translated version of the book, but what happens after? The seatwork, quizzes and exams, will I have the chance to use the internet for those too? No, of course not. Medusa would have eaten me alive if I did.

I choose the other more grueling choice then; learn the damn language.

The scholarship I currently have—and the one I might have in the future—demand that I have above average grades on all my subjects. If I use a shortcut on this then thoroughly fail English shortly after, my future (and my bank account) will undoubtedly vanish from this world.

I don't even know where to start. The great summary I've written is a three page long narrative; however I only need one paragraph.

The only characters I remember are Pip and Estella. Pip is the novel's protagonist and he's an orphan like me, and Estella's the girl Pip is in love with, but the girl couldn't love him back because her adoptive mother got rid of her ability to love.

My opinion on the novel as a whole? The book's too damn long to figure out.

The library has been my home away from home for the past three weeks, and this very uncomfortable chair I am sitting on has been occupied by yours truly for a grand total of _forty-seven hours._That's right people. Forty-seven hours of living hell. And yes, I counted the hours I stayed here. Deal with it.

"What are you, some kind of book serial killer?" said a deviously smirking boy directly in front of me. It was the same jerk who degraded me just because I felt the need to take a beauty/power nap at the local library.

"No, not really," I sweep my bangs away from the first half of my face and drop my mangled copy of '_Great Expectations'_beside my equally distorted red dictionary. "Just an occupational hazard."

"Is that so?" he hummed. He leans forward and reaches for the notebook he invaded last time. His flawless eyebrows rose up once again as he scanned my notes. He unquestionably found the same drawing of his face beside signs that said 'stupid jerk' and 'cocky ass', only this time he was scratched out. "May I ask what your occupation is?"

"No, you can't. My work is top secret; so top secret that I'm the only one who knows about it." I cross my legs elegantly (I hope) and fold my arms atop my (flat) chest. "You are disturbing my soon to be successful mission. Please leave so I may meticulously assassinate the manuscripts on top of this beautiful mahogany table," I said, lowering my voice a few octaves and trying to act like the sexy female assassins hunky spies try to kill.

But of course the amateurish display immediately backfired. "You are an idiot." That blasé tone of his is seriously hitting my nerves every single time he uses it. _Which is all the time,_ said a matter-of-fact voice in my loony head.

"No, you are!" I half-yelled then very maturely stuck out my tongue. My prickly chair gets rammed back as I hastily stand up. Rows after rows of bookshelves each full of math filled wonder beckon me.

As I start to head towards the prehistoric towers, an infuriatingly smug voice remarked "Nice pillow." My hands wander to my butt, and voila! An O-shaped penguin plushy was attached to it. I desperately try to keep my face blank as I drop the pseudo-innocent fluff on the floor beside my chair, and saunter off with my arms matching my stride as they swing back and forth.

Some people in my vicinity steer clear of me as I violently pull out a random book from its dwelling place. They seem to feel my livid aura as I push the poor thing back and haul out another book just to shove it right back instantaneously. The cycle continues 'til I recall that I truly needed a book on algebra.

_Who does he think he is to degrade me like that?_I thought as I rummage around for the required book supporting the next form of torture I shall face. _I hope__he ends up alone until he shrivels up and dies if he keeps this up._

When the same people who avoided me like a plague a while ago came back to go about their business, I realize I've calmed down to some extent. Ten pages of the book were read before I walk back to my table at a sedate pace.

Summoning all the proficient acting skills I could muster, indifference was still not my forte. Stumbling on a flat surface though, now that's my specialty. After picking up the book that plummeted down onto the musty red carpet I, in my flush-faced splendor, _attempted_ to look like nothing happened as I sat down opposite the boy who cried "idiot".

"You really hate books, don't you?" the boy said, scrawling on my notebook while holding the battered novel with his unoccupied hand.

"What are you doing?" I mutter, narrowing my eyes. Is this guy sincerely trying to make me suspicious or is he trying to drive me mad just for the sake of it?

"Since you are an idiot," there he goes with that favorite word of his. He looks me straight in the eyes as he said "I have decided to take pity on you and write down the obvious key points you'll need for your summary." The word 'obvious' was stressed heavily.

Now, I shouldn't waste an opportunity like this, should I? "Why thank you my good sir. Since you are such a genius, Stranger-sama, you must tell me about the characters too! Surely you know about them? You wouldn't be exceptionally intellectual if you didn't." Classic baiting; praise 'em first then retaliate with an insult. I hope this jerk isn't too smart to recognize it.

"Nice try. Do your own homework; I'm done feeling sorry for you," _Damn_. "I expect a reward. Buy me a beverage." What?! I thought he saw me as a pitiable little girl? He helped me just to mooch off me!

"Fine, but only if you help me with math too," Overkill, I know. Eh, who doesn't want to spend time with an attractive indiidual of the opposite sex?

"Very well," he concluded after contemplating his options for a while. "But not now, I need a milkshake."

I suddenly find the window behind me incredibly intriguing as I hopelessly try to tone down my mirth. _A_milkshake_!_ _A goddamn milkshake!_Is he serious? I thought he might have wanted coffee or tea or even a freaking soda!

"Sure, I know a great place for milksha—pfft!" I bend over and cover my mouth with a forearm to hold in the sudden fit of giggles.

"Let's go then," Then he's halfway across the room all of a sudden. I frantically grab all my torture devices plus my plushy and dash through the door to where he was waiting.

-:-:-:-:-

I stood resolutely next to a bench with my hands balled into paling fists at my sides. My malevolent glare directed at the boy who robbed me of my happiness. "You said '_a_' milkshake, not three! You emptied my wallet before I got the chance to taste the double-chocolate flavored one you had twice!"

"I am glad you know about grammaticalization," said the thief. He looked at me impassively for two seconds then picked on imaginary lint on his white long-sleeved shirt and fixed the ties on his grey Chuck Taylors.

"Is that even a word?" I shriek, loosening my fists as they rise to my hips.

"Very good, you know a thing or two about words also," Now he was checking his pants for any lint. I swear a tick on my forehead just blew up.

This fellow right here is a person you utterly must not entrust anything with.

_I give up_. My backpack lands itself on the pavement and I crash down beside him on the metal-wood crossbreed bench.

My body sags against the wood as I relax whilst staring at the clouds. The peace was short-lived because the jerk commented on how idiots shouldn't relax.

"I'll see you again tomorrow for that math lesson you so leadenly need," he said. The arrogant bastard stood up as the bus pulls in before us.

"Sure, just don't leech off me again. I'm already poor enough without you sucking out the contents of my pockets," said poor little Mai.

He just smirked and continued his confident stride toward the bus.

_Ack, I still don't know his name!_He was already reaching for the handlebars next to the bus' door when I abruptly seized the hem of his shirt. "What's your name?"

"Davis," he said, together with the most angelic smile I've ever witnessed in my whole entire existence. I pause, gawk and look like the idiot he claims me to be as he turns and goes for the first chair that wasn't occupied. The green vehicle accelerated and I follow it with my eyes until veers off my sight. My chest was heavy, but I don't know why.

He never showed up the next day.

-:-:-:-:-

A/N: Hope you liked it! Thanks so much for reading, especially to those who reviewed before! All of them made me smile like a moron for hours to no end :) Btw, what do you guys want as a first case? The original or a whole new super shiny, totally not canon case? Share your thoughts so I can make this story even better! Constructive criticism is much appreciated ;)


	5. Tall Tales

Chapter 5

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As the final bell rung, the teacher says his goodbyes and the students go about their business and ignore him as usual. Students excitedly shoving books, pens and papers (and their other crap) into their bags as they chat with their peers was the norm after school, but for me, not exactly. Maybe some other day I could have done this also like all the other normal students, but not today. No, today was a special day. Today was the third Thursday of the month.

Almost a year ago, when we were still middle school students, Keiko and Michiru started a ritual of sorts when they found out that I've been reading western literature about ghost hunting. They thought it was cool so they decided that on a specific day every month we should tell ghost stories just to scare ourselves.

I also thought it was cool so I pitched in an idea too. Some say that if you gather a group to share ghost stories, everyone will need to hold their own candles. We forgo the candles and settle for penlights since candles were sorta dangerous to handle in a tense atmosphere. That, and we're too lazy for candles.

After we tell our stories and turn the lights off we have to count upwards from one. The last one should be a ghost.

It would be boring and monotonous if we went back to the same place every month so Michiru suggested that we should take turns on choosing the setting. After winning a game of rock paper scissors, Keiko goes first. Being the exuberant person she is; naturally she picked the infamous 'haunted house' near our school.

We also pick a theme for every meeting like 'suicides', 'car accidents', 'camping trips' or even 'insanity'. Each story we were to tell should be related to the appointed theme. The same person who picked the place also has the honors of picking the theme.

I have already packed all my supplies half an hour before dismissal and I'm ready to get the hell outta here, but _noooooo. _Keiko just had to have 'Mai senses'. Every time I try to run away and yell "Peace out!" Keiko either yanks my wrist violently or smiles at me in her own (very) creeptastic way thus ruining all of my carefully formulated escape strategies.

Ghost stories are great, don't get me wrong. I love them—especially when I'm the narrator. When my two bestest friends popped out the idea, I agreed whole-heartedly. But after a chat about possible tales and haunted places, they pop out another idea. They said that after everyone's finished with their stories we should hunt the ghosts too like what my oh so informative book notifies its readers.

Of course I righteously spun 180° after that. I have sworn just months before that I'd never let myself come into contact with spirits ever again. Why? Because every time a spirit notices that I have the ability to see and speak with their kind, it immediately approaches me and asks for my help with whatever he or she needs to do before crossing over. Why is this a bad thing? Because all their favors are ridiculously impossible for an orphaned fifteen year old to complete (one time a twenty year old woman told me to go salvage her body dumped in a ditch at Miyako-shoto. Why her spirit was in Tokyo, I did not dare ask), so I talk them out of it instead.

Although every time I convince them to cross over it's like they take a piece of me with them.

I get exhausted to the point of collapsing right then and there and when I cleanse a suicidal spirit (which type is numerous); I 'absorb' their depression hence making Taniyama Mai try suicide as well.

All the people who knew me were shocked when they got the news. I was always so cheerful; the only time anyone saw me disheartened was when my mother's funeral took place. They all rushed to the hospital, consoling and sympathizing. Every one of 'em told me that death wasn't the solution and that my parents would be heartbroken if I took my own life.

Contemplating my own demise was never a hobby of mine. I know my life sucks but I never gave up. That one incident was the product of built up depression every suicidal ghost left me when I was young.

"Nuh uh. You are never getting away Taniyama," I visibly cringe as I face the cruel voice behind me. "I even have back up and bribery up my sleeves," the ever impish Keiko added while taunting a small brown cup full of wonderfully delectable pudding.

"Hey Keiko, I just remembered that it's my neighbor Totoro's birthday today! He invited me over and I wouldn't want him to think that his life isn't appreciated! And I'm such a great friend to him too. Did you know that when it rained last week I let him borrow my extra umbrella?" I said with my eyebrow and lip twitching. Was it obvious that I'm lying? No, never mind. Don't answer that.

"Totoro, eh? I've never heard of this neighbor before," the witch said, checking her clean fingernails for dirt while leaning on the doorjamb. "What's his last name?"

"..."

"Well?"

"...Miyazaki!"

There was a pause then I threw my forehead into my right hand as Keiko laughed her socks off. "Haa… ha! Seriously Mai? _Miyazaki?_" then she continued with her boisterous guffawing and I continued with my face-palming.

"Not my fault I ain't quick-witted," I mutter under my breath as we head to Michiru's classroom.

"Hello there my beautiful kouhais! Isn't it a wonderful day today?" _It's raining heavily._ "My, my Taniyama-chan why the long face?" Michiru-_sempai_ snickered. She bagged the acceleration she wanted last year. Now she's a second year high school student instead of being a freshman like me and Keiko.

"Satsuki-chan it's your turn to pick," Keiko sang enthusiastically albeit mockingly. She was practically shaking with all the excitement in her body.

"Fine," I pout. "Let's do it in the A/V room. The stories are limited to those related to this school," I said offhandedly, rolling my eyes when they both squealed in delight. I might as well make this as interesting as it could get since I can't get out of it.

The two girls skip merrily to the A/V room with me trailing after despondently. I turn off the room's fluorescent lights as we enter and Michiru pulls out our penlights from her bag.

"I go first!" Keiko exclaimed. All of us near the podium and sit down with our legs crossed. "It was the first day of school and the teacher called out the roll, trying to match each of his students' faces to their names." Keiko paused and looked at us, her face looking like a ghost's as her penlight illuminates it. "When he had finished, he noticed that there was one person who had not been called: the one sitting at the front row directly across his desk. He asked for her form to check if she was enrolled in his class, but she stared at him blankly. He repeated his question, and watched—along with the entire class—as the girl stood up and walked past him, straight through the blackboard," she turns of her light as Michiru shivers beside me.

_Pff, that wasn't scary at all… although if that's legitimate, I might want to ask around where this classroom is so I can avoid it._

"The scariest part about it is that they hadn't been suspicious of her until she went through a solid wall."

_True enough._

"Me next then," Michiru quietly and mysteriously said. I leaned back and relaxed; Michiru's stories had never crept me out. "After their classes ended late, three friends went to the bathroom together. When three of them had emerged from the cubicles, another classmate entered the bathroom and greeted them. As the fourth girl was in the cubicle, the three decided to play a prank on her. They locked the bathroom and stood outside."

_I don't like this story at all._

"In a moment they felt the doorknob rattle, and heard their classmate knocking and asking to be let out. They laughed and teased her as she begged them to open the door. When she started crying and howling at them to unlock the door, the three felt guilty and gave in," the sound of raindrops pelting the window near us was deafening against the prolonged silence.

Michiru continued after a few seconds, her tone a tad darker. "They opened the door to find no one in the bathroom. Again and again they called their friend's name, but no one responded. Spooked, the three ran back to their classroom. They found the fourth girl there, who was surprised when they demanded to know where she had gone. 'I never left the room since this morning,' she said. She hadn't gone to the bathroom at all."

Keiko grabbed my arm and slid closer to me. I in turn move forward to get closer to the Michiru.

_Uh, okay. Why the hell was I freaked out with that seemingly simple story? _ My back straightened as Michiru turned her light off.

The girls look at me expectantly as they wait for me to start. I adapt to my 'story-telling voice' when I do. "One student wanted privacy while conducting her bathroom business, so she checked into a rarely frequented bathroom beside the physics laboratory. All the other stalls were empty when she came in, and she had heard no one enter, so she was surprised to find a pair of black shoes standing outside her cubicle door." I pause dramatically and grin as they squirm restlessly.

"What happened next?" Keiko squeaked.

"They stood there, perfectly still, seemingly waiting for her to finish, even while the other cubicles were unoccupied. Slightly unsettled, the girl looked away from the shoes, shifting her vision upward—only to find that a freakishly tall and ghostly nun was leaning on top of the cubicle door, leering at her with her bloodshot eyes and sinister smile,"

They both scream. I know that they frequented the exact bathroom since few people use it. Whether or not the story is true, all students from our school will agree that the bathroom beside the physics lab is truly unsettling: it has no mirrors, even though marks on the tile walls indicate mirrors had once hung there.

With a weak sound my penlight disappeared. The vicinity was wrapped up in the darkness and the sound of the rain.

"O-one," Keiko stuttered, her voice hazy from inside the darkness.

"Two," Michiru's voice was trembling.

"Three," I whispered, my tone still low.

There were only three of us. Will we hear a fourth voice?

We waited for a few seconds then I chuckled. "Well girls, it's time for me to say goodbye. My neighbor Totoro is still waiting for me."

"No no no no no, you don't get out of this halfway Taniyama!" Oh, boy. Totoro might have to wait.

"Fine, fine. We'll do this my way though," I said, dragging my poor butt back up and away from the hard floor. "Let's start at the auditorium, they say that there's a boy crawling under the seats grabbing some people's foots. He even showed his face to some of his victims according to my sources."

_My way_ was agitating the spirit until it gives a response enough to scare off Keiko and Michiru, but not violent enough to harm us. Temperature lowering was fine. I play along of course, acting like I'm frightened too so the spirit won't notice me.

When we get to the almost pitch-black auditorium, I run around the center aisle and ram the piece of wood (I found just moments ago) into every seat I reach. I feel the temperature drop and sure enough, there he was.

The boy is only around ten years old. His eyes glassy, his hair damp and his skin chalky pale. He's sitting at the smack middle of the auditorium and he continued to stare off into empty space.

I pretend not to notice the boy and carry on at scaring the girls. "Hey guys, I also heard that there's a nun walking back and forth and back and forth and back and forth across the backstage hallway."

"Mai! That's enough. Let's go already there's nothing here." Ah, Michiru shouldn't have said that.

The boy turned his head and I find myself staring straight at him. He raised a hand and waved at me before disappearing.

_Dammit. He noticed me noticing him._

"Mai," Keiko whispered. They were both clinging to me. "Mai, stop spacing out! T-there's a g-ghost over there at the exit," she stammered. I turn my eyes to where she's pointing and see another ghostly boy.

His back was turned to us and all I could discern is his odd wardrobe. He was dressed head to toe in black; even his hair was black. It seems like he's talking to someone at the other side of the door.

Though he wasn't a ghost.

No, not at all, but to be fair, he looks like one. He was unnaturally still and without seeing much of his skin (as he was wearing a jacket and slacks) I'm certain that he's deathly pale under all those clothes. His hands are very good clues.

Then he turned and I transform into mush.

It's _him._

-:-:-:-:-

A/N: Do not fret my children. I have planned this 'til the ends of the ends of all ends! I just need to tweak a few minor details. I simply asked that question last time since I made two outlines for the first case.

I love you all.


	6. Hoax

Chapter 6

-:-:-:-:-

After saying goodbye to the stranger apparently named Davis, I trek back to my empty apartment from the bus stop. The walk was a blur, but not my neighbors' comments.

"Mai-chan, your face is so red! Are you sick?" Ami-chan wryly said. She's a tenant from the second floor, and though I'm from the fourth, we're kinda close. Maybe babysitting her last year got us close. Just maybe.

"Ma-i, you're blushing! Who's the lucky guy?" Hideki-kun shouted from across the hall, prolonging my name into two syllables. _He was across the hall, is my face _that _red?_ He's a junior from the high school I wish to enter, and a tenant from the same floor as mine. He's gay. I love him for it.

"What? No. I have a cold," I said, making my voice raspy and frail, adding a little cough as a precaution.

"Oh really? Can a sick person run through four sets of stairs in record time?" he cackled. He places both his hands on his hips and raises his trimmed eyebrows up to his hair line as if he was challenging me to a dance off.

"Um, maybe? Talk to you later!" And I was gone.

My shoes get kicked off near the main door and my books were thrown haphazardly all over the living room floor in my haste to get to my room. I flop on my bed and stay still for at least a few eternities. Mom said staying immobile could help calm anyone.

I try to clear my head but a pair of breathtaking blue eyes keeps invading. Then black locks frame them, and high cheekbones with a perfectly angled nose between them joined the party. Then, oh gosh, faultless pale lips assaulted my mind. They were curved in the most beautiful way; it was a full smile, with his immaculate white teeth showing. It was a bit lopsided, as if just one more twitch will morph it into a devious smirk.

An unladylike snarl escapes me as another thought invaded me. I still haven't finished the reaction paper.

_Mai get up,_ my bossy inner voice commanded. I unwillingly haul my arse off my semi-comfortable mattress and plod my way to the kitchen. After making tea, my butt finds itself on another unforgiving wooden chair. While making my hands cooperate with my brain to write the paper was a challenge enough, my eyes decided to defy me as well. As I finish writing, and I leave the last dot in place, my mind shuts and my head thumps on a hard-covered book.

When my alarm clock attacked me yet again the morning after, I don't hit the snooze button. Surprising, I know. The entire time I was grooming myself, fixing a ramen breakfast for one, gathering my math stuff and picking myself up after predictably tripping, I was grinning like a loon. I was jumping all around and humming show tunes.

But as dusk arrives, and the milkshake guy never shows, I realize that I've been fooled by a common playboy.

"_Kyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa_!"

The blood-curdling scream from behind wakes me up from my reverie. Keiko was digging her face into my back and she was clutching my forearm so tight that blood can't flow through it anymore. Michiru was right behind us. She was pale-faced, one arm embracing her own waist and one hand covering the lower half of her face.

And a tall boy donned in dark clothes makes his way to us.

"I'm sorry to have frightened you girls," he said, smiling apologetically. He raises his arms in front of him as if to tell us '_I come in peace'._

_There's something wrong with that smile._

"Oh god oh god oh god oh god I thought I was gonna die!" Keiko exclaimed, sagging to the floor as she cradled her face.

Michiru murmurs almost the same thing, but in a less grand way. She didn't sag down to the floor either.

"Davis?" I whisper, my voice inaudible. I just stand there, utterly shocked. Both hands were trembling but my face never gave anything away. My spirit evasion training honed me well.

"You aren't a ghost right?" Keiko said, still wary, as the boy helped her to her feet.

"No, I assure you that I am not," he said, still smiling. Now I know what's wrong with it. His smiles were never reaching his eyes. I know that trick well enough. I've worn it for almost a year now. "Excuse me. The lights were off so I thought there was nobody in here, but suddenly I heard noises, so I just—"

"That's—it's alright! We were just fooling around after all. Sorry for disturbing you," Keiko said joyously, her apology nonexistent because of the nearly visible lovey-dovey aura she was emitting.

"Are you an exchange student?" Keiko said unsteadily. She was still shaken up from the peculiar experience earlier. "What year are you?"

He paused for a while and murmured as if to himself. "Is it like that? I wonder…" He paused again and said "I'm seventeen this year."

_What's with the strange answer and the pauses?_

"So you're in the same grade as Michiru," Keiko said with outright dismay. She is the kind that is attracted only by the looks.

"We're sorry to have startled you too." _What a total understatement._"We were just looking for ghosts after telling stories about them," Michiru said.

"Oh?" Another pause. "Would you mind if I join you?" he said with an insincere smile still inhibiting his beautiful face.

Both girls squealed in delight.

"Come here," Keiko said as she skipped to the stage. "Mai told us that the ghost boy was lurking under the center seats." They pulled his arms and I trail behind, still withdrawn.

He asked who 'Mai' was and Keiko gestured in my general direction. He looks at me and raises an eyebrow in a painfully familiar way. I force a smile out and halfheartedly wave. He gives me a once over and continues his stride.

_He doesn't even remember me. Typical._

"What's your name?"Michiru asked.

"Shibuya," he said. I snap my head up from my pity party and turn my eyes to the back of his head as Keiko and Michiru introduce themselves.

_What, so he even dares to hide his real name? Does he do the same to other girls he meet? What is his purpose by doing this?_

"Shibuya-san, do you like hunting ghosts too?" Keiko said, the pink aura still exuding from her in violent waves.

"'Hunting ghosts'?" he said, his tone curious.

"Oh yeah," Keiko said with her hand waving before her face in a casual way. "We started trying it last year when we noticed the books Mai was reading." Damn Keiko and her big mouth. I only read them because of this guy right here.

Summer last year, when I was cleaning out the books I studied for high school entrance exams, I stumbled upon a mangled blue book. It turns out that I could still read the contorted words, I just didn't understand them the first time I discovered the book because I haven't learned to read English. The author stressed significantly how supernatural research should be treated as a science. The subject caught my interest so I searched for other books like it.

Said author is standing right in front of me.

_Should I ask for an autograph?_ Mai was feeling very sarcastic today.

They reach the front of the stage, facing the center seats. I stop halfway as I spot another apparition at the side of the stage in my peripherals. The spirit is a female, wearing dirty white from head to toe. She's the nun I was talking about a century ago. I dare not look at her directly.

"Hey guys, I need to go. I think the rain's giving me a headache and I'm feeling sorta queasy," I said, meekly so that they would believe me. "I'm really sorry Da—Shibuya-san." I stammer, averting my gaze because I don't want to see if the slip-up might have had an effect on him.

"The truth is I'm in a hurry right now. How about next time you hunt ghosts or tell stories, you let me join in?" he said, cutting off Keiko and Michiru's protests. Was he affected by the microscopic blunder?

"Then, tomorrow after school?" Keiko wags her tail.

"Alright. Where?"

"At the covered court. Mai said someone told her about a toddler who died in there," Michiru said. Damn it. Why did she have to say that?

"Okay then. I'll see you girls tomorrow." He fake-smiles, turns, and walks away. That dishonest smile was seriously grating on my nerves.

Keiko's flirty goodbyes stalk _Shibuya_-san's descent as I gather my things so that I can leave as well.

"Bye Michiru, Keiko. I'll see you tomorrow," I mumble whilst rubbing my temples as if I had a migraine. I'm still keeping up my act. I can't stay if all I would hear is piggy-squealing over a playboy. As a good friend, I really should warn them, but I just don't have the energy to put up with anything related to him anymore.

Once I shed my white indoor shoes and slip on my black outdoor shoes, I exit the school gripping my transparent umbrella. If I thought the crisis for today had already been forestalled, I was greatly wrong.

The boy who cried "idiot" was standing in front of the school's gates. He seemed to be waiting for someone.; that someone must be the black van a block away, which was waiting for the red light to turn green.

I gather all the courage in my small frail clumsy body, and march out between those old gates. But before I disappear completely, I stop next to him and say "It's a pleasure meeting you again, Davis-san," in flawless English. My monotonous voice betrayed nothing of my inner turmoil. I leave as the van stopped for the boy.

My legs immediately find themselves having an impromptu work out as I run like the devil was after my soul.

Then I hear screeching as I cross the street. A large cement truck was speeding its way toward me, exactly like ten years ago.

Just like in the movies, everything seemed to slow down before death claimed me. Despite this obvious upper hand, I find myself frozen, contemplating whether to live or to die. Maybe this is fated. Maybe my parents want me back with them.

But I was torn from the decision. Somebody pushed me off the Grim Reaper's trail and I was thrown into the sidewalk. I was awarded with stinging cuts and a pounding head. My bag was a few meters away with its contents strewn on the asphalt.

"No… _NO!"_ I shout with tears streaking down over my cheeks, my trembling hands letting go of the distorted umbrella still in my hand after the impact. I drag my feet towards the wreckage and I break down in front of the man who saved my life. "What the hell are you people waiting for?! Call for an ambulance! Call the police! Call the president, I don't care! Don't you see that he's dying?!" I exclaim to the bystanders. The morons were just standing there looking at us.

I look down to assess the damage. The search for his pulse was successful, and I release a large sigh of relief. His leg was bent in a disgusting twist and he has a cut on his temple. Those are the only injuries he acquired, and that's good. I think. A handkerchief gets pulled out of its resting place after I wipe my tears and pull his head to my lap. I dab on the cut under the long forelock covering one side of his face, and wait for the paramedics to come.

"Please don't die," I snivel, gazing at my savior's bloody face.

-:-:-:-:-

A/N: The reviews I get are very helpful and very, _very_ inspiring. They cheer me up whenever I'm depressed \ ˚▽˚ / Thank you! You know who you are ;)

Btw, I changed the summary again. Tsk, tsk. Silly Meep. I have not changed anything from the story, just the teaser at the top of it, of which I delegate the task of fishing for more people to brainwash.


	7. Personal Slave

Chapter 7

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"My assistant being unable to move is troubling. Don't you think you have a responsibility to take on, Taniyama-san?"

When the paramedics finally came, and hauled me and the stupid man who saved me, this guy insisted that he should come to the hospital with us. Of course I was stumped. Why the hell would he come with me to the hospital? We weren't related or anything.

One of the first aid people asked him what his relationship with us was. He answered with the word "Assistant".

Then the lady asked another question. "So, you are the victim's assistant?"

Then the pompous ass said "No, it's the other way around." Then he left her with her eyebrows raised up high as he headed for the front seat of the ambulance.

After charging me into the nearest first aid room and bandaging my wounds, the motherly nurses left me to wait for Lin—the unfortunate assistant—outside the Emergency Room. They said he was lucky that the truck didn't hit him too hard. He was left only with a twisted leg and a serious-looking-but-not-really-serious concussion.

Now here I am, sitting in one of the green plastic chairs lined at both sides of a hallway. There is an ignored television stuck on the wall of the hallway, just before the intersection. Opposite it is a lone half-empty (or was it half-full?) water dispenser, with yellow paper cups on top of it.

There is also another human being besides me here in this hallway. He was sitting in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs, though he was situated at the other side, near the emergency room's door. At the farthest seat away from me.

"Then please let me help with your job. It's the least I can do, um… Shibuya-san," I mumbled, keeping my eyes on my bandaged knees. "You don't even need to pay me."

When exactly five minutes had passed and a reaction has yet to come out of him, I repeat my request. This time I raised my head and my voice was louder than a whisper. He still doesn't answer me. Bastard.

If this fellow doesn't want me to help him, then fine. I need to go anyway. I really can't stay here any longer. For obvious reasons duh; I'm in a hospital. You _know_. Bad memories, annoying nurses, the smell.

_Wandering spirits._

"Anyway, what do you do for a living? It must be incredibly important since you've been warranted an assistant. Don't you go to school? Aren't you transferring to our school? So why do you need to work? Are you transferring to our school because of your work? Wow, how dedicated. Are your parents okay with you having a job while you're still so young? Do you need to work because your parents don't support your education? Do you have parents? Why are you wearing black from head to toe? Is that a new trend or something? Are your toenails painted black? What are you reading?" I babbled, random questions spraying out of my lips. _C'mon, talk_. Talk you idiot. If no one distracts me the dead woman sitting beside you might follow me home.

He answers me with a flick of one of the pages on the damn notebook he's been reading since we got here.

"Oh look at the time," I theatrically look at my watch-less wrist "I need to go home now. I hope to never see you again. Bye!" I stammered after spotting an unmoving baby nestled upon the woman's pale arms. She was murmuring reassuring words to the infant, her tone getting more malevolent with each second. The baby remained unmoving.

I take my bag abruptly and limp my way out of the waiting room-hallway. Just when I was nearing my freedom, a quiet but firm voice called out.

"If you're interested in listening, I can explain you the circumstances," he said.

Oh. You choose to speak _now_, your highness? I turn abruptly and stomp my way back to my green chair, each step sending prickles of electricity into every throbbing spot on my body, especially into my sprained ankle and bruised limbs. My battered bag was once again dropped violently.

"If I don't listen, I won't be able to do my job," I grumbled, a sullen aura quickly being summoned into me. "What do you do anyway?" I added while crossing my arms in front of my torso and raising my chin in false inquiry. Of course I know what his work is.

"Ghost Hunt."

"…w-what?" I stutter, widening my eyes. I thought he was an author! This guy is crazy. I know Keiko or Michiru (I don't remember who) asked him if he liked hunting ghosts, but to make it a living… He's a lunatic. I mean, sure he wrote a book about studying the paranormal, but he actually did fieldwork?

"Or in other words, ghost extermination. We've come here to investigate your school by the request of the principal. We are called 'Shibuya Psychic Research'," he stated, flicking of imaginary lint on his sleeve. He did that too the last time we met. Was it some kind of habit?

"Pusai..kkiku... risaachi?" _Please let it work please let it work please let it work._

He paused in his lint search, narrowed his eyes, and then looked at me in contempt. "I am not deaf, nor am I a fool. I heard your brave little statement before the accident." _Crap._

"What statement?" I asked with feign innocence. I cocked my head to the side and looked at him in mock indifference.

"How do you know my name?" he asked. _You told me, dumbass._ Doesn't he remember? What kind of genius was he?

"You introduced yourself a while ago didn't you? Your name is Shibuya."

"No. That's not what I'm talking about."

"No? Then _what_ is your name? Davis?"

"Where did you hear that?"

"A book told me, you turd." That wasn't actually a lie. The blue book he left me did have an author's name, but I thought it was a coincidence that they had the same last name. I decided to read more of the same author's books so I bought another (goddamn expensive and hard to find) paranormal-related book in his name, this time with his face stamped at the back cover.

He stopped in the middle of forming a comeback as if wanting to say 'What did you just call me?' but I guess he doesn't so he asks "What book?" instead, raising his voice and standing up to gain ground against his prey.

"A book I bought. Didn't you hear what my friends said a while ago? I read books about ghosts. It's not my fault you wrote one," I countered, my voice equally menacing.

He answered me with a sigh and he sat back down on his chair. He pinched the bridge of his nose before lifting his right ankle to his left knee.

"Oh, so your name really is Oliver Davis? Why do you need a fake one then? So you can run away from all your admirers from England?" I criticized, emptying myself of disdain. I'm not entirely sure why I hate him this much.

Maybe it's because he let me fail my algebra test last year thus making me almost lose my scholarship.

"Enough."

"Fine. I'll see you tomorrow." I sneered. "By the way, you should get out of that chair right now." I added as the spirit started to reach out her hand towards his shoulder.

When he didn't do as I say, I shrug, grab my bag, and half walk half limp out of the hallway, all the while feeling two pairs of eyes trailing after me.

-:-:-:-:-

I end up running to school the next day because my alarm clock failed to wake me again. I don't blame it though; it's my own fault for thinking too hard about irrelevant encounters on a school night. When I enter my classroom, there was stillness for a millisecond, and then questions attacked me.

"Taniyama-san, what happened to you?"

"Hey Mai! I heard about what happened yesterday. Are you okay?"

"Do you have medicine for the pain?"

"Is it true that you got into a car accident?"

"Why did your parents let you go to school today?"

At the last question, everyone buzzing around me shut up. They all looked at the idiot and gave him reprimanding looks. They finally dispersed when Keiko shooed them as she approached my desk.

"Mai-chan, what happened?" she asked; worry etching her tone. She laid her palm on my forehead and she checked all my wounds. I let her do it to appease her worry. It wouldn't help if I pushed her away.

"It's nothing. I just tripped."

"Don't give me that bullshit!" she yelled from the top of her lungs, and the rest of the class quieted again. She grabbed my shoulders and shook me hard. "You should be careful at all times! Being clumsy is not an excuse for almost dying!" she cried out. Her eyes watered as her face slowly reddened due to repressed tears.

When her shaking eventually jarred too many of my aching bones, I stop her and envelope her trembling form into my thrashed arms.

"Don't worry," I murmur reassuringly while rubbing her back to soothe her. "It's not like that." I'm afraid she thought I tried to kill myself.

And I did, even if it was only for a second.

"Taniyama, the principal wants to see you in his office," Tadashi-sensei's voice booming across the deafening silence of the classroom, his tone uncharacteristically somber.

I let go of Keiko and bow to Tadashi-sensei before heading for the door, slowly.

As I stroll towards the principal's office, I halt my tracks and wonder for a second. _What did I do wrong? Am I in trouble?_

"Taniyama, sit," the principal commanded as I entered his office. What next? Roll over? Play dead?

_Oh but of course I'm in trouble. Not with the school though,_ I thought, noticing a dark figure looming beside the principal's mahogany desk.

"This is Shibuya-san, the president of Shibuya Psychic Research." _No duh._ "I'm sure you've been acquainted. Now, since Shibuya-san is without an assistant, and you seem to be available," _Available?_ _I have a very important science test RIGHT NOW._ "Why don't you help him?" he finished.

"Uh… Sure," I mumble rather incoherently. _Whatever you say, Master._ It doesn't really help me in my rebellion that he wouldn't charge me for tuition.

"Good. Now off you go. I still need to finish all this paperwork," he quipped as he motioned his hand in a 'go away' fashion.

'Shibuya-san' exits quietly and I follow him out. As soon as we aren't within the principal's hearing vicinity I explode.

"Seriously?" I shrieked at him, disbelief lacing my tone. "Seriously?!" I repeated, throwing my hands up then balling them into fists as I throw them to my sides. I don't care how immature I look right now. I have a damn biology test right now. If I don't take it, the teacher will have to make a special test and that'll probably be harder.

He doesn't answer me.

"Did you really, _really_ need to haul me outta class for your stupid job _right now_?" I scoffed, stomping as fast as I can because, damn, this guy walks fast. "You know, we can do your oh so important job _later_, when I _don't_ have class. Maybe even tomorrow, because it's S_aturday_ tomorrow," I croon as if I was talking to a five year old, my voice dripping with sugar and chocolate.

"Do you remember what my van looks like? It's black. Go there and wait for me. I still need to confirm which room will be our base," he ordered, never looking at me, and walked away.

"Yes, boss. Right away, boss. Do you want me to polish your shoes too boss?" I grumbled to myself as I headed for the parking lot.

As promised, he fetched me in that spot and made me carry a bunch of expensive looking cameras and monitors. It's like he did not notice that I'm currently injured and most definitely a weak teenage girl without buffed arm muscles.

After setting up 'base', he demanded that I go and measure the temperature of every single rumored-to-be-haunted rooms around the school, _alone_. I did as he said without complaint, a wide smile plastered on my face. Tick twitching included.

With the setting sun accompanying me, I drag my jelly legs back to base after completing my excursion. My head full of ideas to kill a certain someone the whole time.

-:-:-:-:-

A/N: Happy birthday Gene and Noll! I sometimes wonder what you guys look like if a wizard magically transforms you into your middle aged splendor. The two of you'll probably still be beautiful. That's not fair. Damn you both.


	8. Queries

Chapter 8

-:-:-:-:-

One Saturday morning, I found myself mentally reciting the preface of the book 'Supernatural Systems'.

_It's a subject of controversy whether the study of the supernatural is legitimate science or a fraud. The author believes it's not a science – yet. Therefore, I think we must first conduct our research in such a way that supernatural research will be acknowledged as a science._

"So this is what he meant by 'research in such a way'."

"What?" the author asked, his voice muffled by a thin wall. He was at the other side of the room, fixing the cables on one of his fancy cameras.

I ignored him and continued with my staring. There lie hundreds of small televisions in front of me, a stereo system beside the shelf, some microphones in a corner, a laptop on one desk, and a jerk walking towards said desk in the middle of the room.

"So many machines," I breathed, whistling in awe. "Do you know how to run all of them?" I pursed my lips, still dazed at the number of monitors I'll probably be ordered to carry back to the van after this torture.

"You're brain is different from mine," he explained as he turned his laptop on. What a conceited response. Can't he even humble himself?

"Hmm, yes I believe so. I'm not as arrogant as you," I hissed. "Anyway, what are we dealing with exactly? You didn't really explain anything yesterday."

He looks at me for a second, his eyes unemotional. "The principal is worried that students will transfer schools because of some rumors going around."

And he went on with his mental list, checking off each one of the stories he's done telling. A ghost boy pulling the legs of the people sitting at the center aisle of the auditorium, a boy appearing behind students glancing at the faculty bathroom's mirror reflecting the stretch of the third floor hallway, the sewing room's door locking itself whenever a class has a lecture there, a couple frequently strolling through the garden at the back of the school, a girl crying inside the third cubicle of the girl's bathroom near the cafeteria, a girl who walked through a wall, a ghost impersonating students.

My whole body paled and stilled bit by bit as he recounted the rumors. If all of those were true, why haven't I seen any of those? Is my ability to see spirits wearing off? If so, then I should be jumping in joy right now. Why am I suddenly tensed instead?

"There is also a janitor cleaning the hallway outside the principal's office every night. He himself has seen it," he finished. His eyes were back to his mysterious notebook. I didn't even notice. "I haven't heard about the nun at the backstage hallway though. Where did you hear that?"

"I made that up to scare my friends." _No, there really is a nun there._

"Why?" he asked. His tone was still impassive, as if he wasn't really curious although his eyes betrayed his mask.

"They want to be scared. That's why they made up this game."

"What game?"

"The whole ghost hunting thing. They were only curious about the books I read."

"Why do you read books about the supernatural?"

"Because they're interesting."

"Why do you think they're interesting?"

"Because they are. They amuse me."

"How so?"

"I like how people think that all of the spirits of the dead are still in this world."

"Why?"

"Because they're wrong."

"How did you know that?"

"I can't tell you. Stop asking me questions. You're annoying me."

"You bombarded me with questions too. I never said you should answer them," he concluded. With that, he saunters away, carrying a bulky camera with him. "Take three microphones and come with me."

"Were you talking about these microphones?"

"That's right. We're taking them to the covered court where you said there's a ghost."

"Got 'em. So uh, what are these microphones for?"

His glare of doom answered me. "Wouldn't you think that microphones are generally used to gather sound?"

"I know that." I don't know whether to retaliate with a matching glare or to crawl under the rock of ultimate shame.

"It's dangerous to enter a haunted building without doing research beforehand. That's why in the beginning, one should thoroughly research prior to arriving. For instance, gathering sound from outside the windows and setting up a camera," he explained. Yes, yes. You wrote about that in your book.

"Is a haunted building really dangerous?"

"Some are."

"You're not scared?"

"There's nothing to be scared of."

_Then we have the same opinion about that._"How come you want to do this kind of work when you're only seventeen years old?"

Shibuya's reply was very brief. "Because people need it done."

If you weren't overconfident, you wouldn't answer like that.

I ignored his tone. "Then, there must be some cases that you couldn't solve, right?"

"None," Shibuya tersely replied, "because I am capable." I figured anyone would start disliking him if they heard him say that.

This guy is really full of himself. Just like last year. He never changed. He's still a stupid jerk.

"Wow, incredible—you're handsome and capable," I spouted out angrily.

Shibuya turned around and looked at me with piercing eyes. "I'm handsome?"

"Don't pretend that you don't know. You got Keiko and the others to make such a big fuss over you." And maybe the other girls you tutored then abandoned.

"Right," Shibuya replied calmly, "they have good taste."

What is this? So people who think you're hot have good taste, and people who think you're not have bad taste?

You little... narcissist!

Ah, I'll just call you Naru-chan from now on.

As we enter our destination, I immediately notice a paler-than-Naru-pale boy sitting on one of the benches. Ah, they're right. The boy really is young. It saddens me to think that he didn't even get the chance to live through puberty. Well that's good, I guess. Puberty is a very frustrating process to experience.

"Where?" boss asked, impatiently waiting for my answer. Every time he asks a genuine question (in which he really does need the answer) his right eyebrow rises. I noticed that because every time he doesn't lift an eyebrow, his questions are very sarcastic.

"There, by the window. The highest bench." I point exactly at the boy seated at the third row. He doesn't seem to notice us. He's huddled in a corner, hugging his knees and burying his face in them.

After setting up the camera, microphone and the longest extension cord I've ever seen outside the window, big boss here commanded that I measure the temperature. As I near the boy, the temperature drops little by little until the thermometer stops at above average temperature.

"There is a response on the first try. Just so you know, when a ghost appears, the temperature drops," he informed. "Where did you hear that rumor?" his eyebrows rose again.

"It's a _rumor._ It's really hard to recall where I heard it," I replied, somewhat robotically. What a great liar I'm turning out to be.

To answer Naru-chan's question, I noticed the boy last month during P.E.

"Is that so?" he said, his tone skeptic. He crossed his arms over his torso and look at me intently before walking back to the school's main building where the base is.

"Um, hey Na – Dav – dammit. Shibuya-san. I still need to do… some, uh, stuff. Here. You go ahead. I'll catch up later." I jittered, my nervousness showing. I hope he doesn't notice.

What a stupid hope.

Oh but we are talking about the highest, almightiest, observantest narcissist to ever walk on this planet. He didn't comment on my stuttering though. "What 'stuff'?" he asked. You could practically hear the quotation marks around the word _stuff_.

"Just stuff. Stuff. Stuff stuff stuff," I repeated the word over and over while twirling the charm bracelet on my left wrist. I do those whenever I'm panicky.

"You did not answer my question," he deadpanned. He let go though. "No matter. Be back at base in fifteen minutes."

_Just fifteen minutes? That isn't enough!_

I opened my mouth, just about to protest, but he lifted his hand to stop me. And walked away. Again.

Will he ever stop walking away from me?

I stared at his back as he walked away. When he was finally out of my line of sight, I snap out of my trance, and realize that I killed two minutes.

"Damn," I cursed. I head into the covered court and slowly amble towards the corner where the boy is.

He was still hugging his knees, but his head was raised. He was staring right at me.

"Hey, what's your name?" I murmured, keeping my voice low. I softened my features and continued the unhurried pace I set.

The young boy doesn't answer me. He's still staring at me with his watery eyes. I hadn't noticed his tear-stricken cheeks.

"Don't worry," I assured. "I won't hurt you. I'm here to help you."

Not a word comes out of his blue lips as he continued to stare straight at my eyes. I come closer and sit beside him. I reach out my hand and touch his shoulder in the most comforting way I can possibly manage.

As I touch him, memories rush through me and I black out for what seems like three seconds.

He died slipping off this very bench while he and his mother were watching his older brother's basketball game.

"Jun-kun!" his mother cried. He was still alive when his mother jumped down to the floor beneath the benches. "No please no Jun! Don't go!"

But despite his mother's pleading, he died instantly after those agonizing pleas.

"So your name is Jun, huh? My name is Mai. You can call me 'Onee-chan'," I tried to sweeten my voice despite my trembling.

He nods but doesn't say anything in return. A line of blood dropped from his temple to his jaw.

"I'm sure your family is waiting for you at home. You should head straight for the light; that's where they are," I smiled at him. I hope I can convince him. "Do you know where the light is?"

He looks up.

"That's good. Go there now. You'll be happier there," I encouraged while patting him on the back.

He fades out little by little as his body healed. He disappeared with a smile.

"Well, that was surprisingly easy," I hummed to myself. "Maybe I'm getting good at this."

_Or maybe he just wanted someone to talk to him._

Only thirteen minutes had passed. I start for the base, but as I exit the building, I notice something for the first time since I had appointed myself of the duty of helping the boy.

"Oh! Great, Mai! Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!" I yelled to the heavens. "Goddamnit!"

There sat the camera and a microphone I set up just moments ago.

"You are a freaking genius Taniyama Mai!" I screamed. "God, I'm so screwed!"

Still muttering profanities, I once again start for the base, where I'm sure an audience was watching my performance through the lens of a camera.

I slowed my pace, attempting to prolong the inevitable. When I get there though, a man with long light brown hair was bickering quite loudly with a woman with luscious red locks.

"What kind of monk from Kouya Mountain is allowed to have long hair?"

"What kind of miko are you be the opposite of a young and pure maiden?"

"I _am_ young!" The lady cried out in frustration. "You there, young handsome boy, you think I'm young right?"

_Ooh, bad decision._

"No."

I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation, but I can't.

"Taniyama-san, where have you been? I told you to be here in fifteen minutes, not twenty-five," he said, not looking away from the rack of monitors.

"Um—"

The door interrupted me. It opened to show the principal at the other side.

"Hold on a moment, who's that person behind the principal?" Miko-san whispered. "It can't be... is it another psychic?"

I craned my neck to catch a glimpse of the lad behind the principal.

He's short, maybe a few years younger than me. Is he a middle school student? And, I admit, he has a cute face. Hehe.

But, blond hair..?

A foreigner?

"Ah, everyone is together," the principal grinned. He quickly stepped out of the way. "Here's the other guest. Let me introduce you guys."

Another psychic then. I hope he's as amusing as the monk and the miko.

"This is John Brown, everyone," Principal-sama continued. "Please welcome him."

Brown-san gave us a deep bow. "How ya'll doin'?"

Not one of us uttered a word.

"I be Brown. Glad to meet y'all," he greeted as he rose from his bow.

Was he speaking in English? No… I don't think so. It sounds like Japanese, but that… dialect…

The principal forced a smile onto his inevitable expression. "Uh, Brown learned Japanese in the Kansai area..."

Monk-san burst out laughing, followed by Miko-san. You shouldn't laugh. He's a foreigner. To be able to say this much is still amazing...

Haha.

Brown seemed a bit lost. His confused look, his blond hair, his blue eyes, and the fact that he's a foreigner just made him look even more ridiculous.

The principal gave us a puzzled look, then said, "W-Well then, I'll just leave it at that," before running off.

Brown turned towards the principal's figure, then said, "Thank ya."

Instead of laughing, Naru-chan wore a stiff expression on his face. "Brown-san, where are you from?"

Oh. Oh! I get it. Brown-san might recognize his fellow foreigner here.

I still don't know why he hides his identity… I was just bluffing about the admirers jab I spouted at him.

"I be comin' frum Australia."

Before any of us could even laugh, the door opened again. A doll-like girl stood in the middle of the door frame.

_That face,_ I pondered. _I've seen that face before…_

Naru-chan forced a smile on. "The principal must really want us to finish the job quickly since he went as far as inviting you."

Her expression didn't change.

"Do you two know each other?" I asked.

"No. I only recognize her face because she's very popular," Naru-chan replied.

"Who is she?" I asked, still racking my brain for memories.

Though I was obviously asking Naru, the girl opened her cherry-like mouth and answered me instead, "If you're talking about me, then I'll introduce myself. I'm Hara Masako."

Hara Masako. Hara Masako.

_Hara Masako_…

"You! It's you! Oh, god, it's you!" I exclaimed at her confused face, my voice getting louder every word. "You are a medium right?!"

She scrunched her delicate eyebrows together before answering my question with an uncertain nod.

"How? How do you stop it?!" I throw my feet forward and hold both her wrists. "Please! Please tell me how!"

Her lips seem to be frozen out of bewilderment.

Then my knees give up on me. Instead of gazing at Hara Masako's beautiful face, I find myself ogling at the intricate patterns of her kimono as I bawl.

"Please," I whispered. "Please help me."

-:-:-:-:-


	9. Wounds, Bruises and Scars

Chapter 9

-:-:-:-:-

"Crazy Mai! Crazy Mai!"

"Are you talking to your _friends_ again, Mai?"

"Don't go near that girl, son."

"What kind of mother would let her child – "

"Shh, she'll hear you."

"Excuse me, sensei, may I talk to you for a minute?" _Mama._

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm very busy right now."

"Please, it'll be just a moment." _Stop trying._

"I'm really sorry."

A door slams shut.

"Come, Mai. Let's go home."

Someone shakes my shoulder.

"Mai, wake up."

Someone pats my head gently.

"Mai, stop crying."

Her voice is very soothing.

"Stop crying."

Her voice is fading out.

"Mai."

"Taniyama-san! Wake up!" a male voice yelled.

I slowly crack my eyes open to see the monk's face uncomfortably close to mine.

"Oh thank god you're awake," he sighed while ruffling his long brown hair.

The base. I'm still in the base. I look out the window to see that not much time had passed. The sun's still there, but it's already near the horizon.

There are six people in this room. One: me. Two: the monk, still looking exasperated. Three: the miko, looking at me in confusion. Four: the blond Kansai boy, a worried expression on his pretty face. Five: a pale lad in dark clothes, standing in one corner, just analyzing the scene in front of him. Six: a beautiful girl sitting beside me, her eyebrows scrunched, her lips in a tight line, but her eyes stay soft. I'm clutching her sleeve.

A cough sliced through the silence. "Um…" the monk started. "So, uh. How are you doin'?" he asked.

Another question remained unsaid.

My glassy eyes stay on his for several seconds then I look down to my lap, where my cold, unmoving fingers rest. I don't answer him.

Another awkward silence followed.

A tear escapes. "Mama," I breathe d.

Someone touches my shoulder again.

"Are you alright?" Hara Masako asked.

I don't answer. Instead, I stand up, and walk away.

And run as soon as I exit the room.

I run, and run, and run. Nowhere in particular.

Students going home to their families curse at me as I push them out of my way.

A dog barks angrily when I pass by his home.

A little girl with brown hair and brown eyes just looks at me while I hug her mother. The mother shoves me off immediately.

I run again.

The blooming sakura trees envelope my vision as I run through the park. Blurred faces look at me in confusion, disbelief and/or contempt as I grab their shoulders for me to get a good look at them.

_Where are you?_

My burning feet finally give up. Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. The smell of moss and decaying leaves stabs my nose.

I look around.

I see overgrown trees hunching over as if waiting for something haunting to happen. Roots knocking over tumbled and broken tombstones lying in front of the bars of the gate I'm clutching. There, sitting in one corner is a crumbling old chapel with walls almost falling.

The oppressive feeling is suffocating me.

The entrance beckons me, however the gates are locked. I climb. A sharp end of one bar scratches my still bruised leg. A trickle of blood flows down to my swollen ankle.

Electricity shoots my heels when I land after jumping from the top. I pause for a long moment because of the pain. I stand again when the throbbing goes away.

I head for the center of the cemetery, but I pause again. There's an open gate twelve feet from me. Stupid Mai.

After reveling in my idiocy, I limp again towards the center, where Mama and Daddy are waiting for me.

One step.

Two Steps.

"Taniyama-san."

I'm hallucinating. Nobody would anxiously run after a loon.

A dirty white stone beside a dirtier white stone enters my line of vision; the weeds around them long, their fellow graves nearby.

I shamble forward.

One step.

Two steps.

Three st—

I fall.

Nothing can ever vie the pain of a head struck down to the asphalt. Electricity shoots again.

I hug my head with my trembling fingers and curl my knees to my torso.

Fetal position. Such a wonderful position for someone like me.

Me, the klutz.

Me, the freak.

Me.

Mai Taniyama.

Someone pries my fingers away from my right temple. Someone dabs my temple with a piece of cloth.

I shut my eyes tight, hoping in vain for the tears to never fall down.

_Mama._

I fail.

A drop rolls down from eye to ear.

"Shh,stop it," a girl murmured. "Crying will never help," she shushes me again. I didn't notice that I was quivering.

"_I_ will help you. I promise."

I nod once.

Twice.

"Let me get you home."

I bob my head again.

"There is nothing here. You understand that, right?"

"Yes."

-:-:-:-:-

A/N: I AM ALIVE! I'm so sorry for this being supercradafragilisticexpialidociously late! (Did I spell that correctly?) And I'm also sorry this is short. I intended it to be that way… And I'm kinda maybe sorta tight on time so you guys might see some mistakes. I'm actually ignoring my fabulously important homework (which is from a strict/crabby/bitchy – gay-guy, I'm not sure yet – professor). So, yeah. Thank you for reading!


	10. Hearsay

Chapter 10

-:-:-:-:-

White ceiling, white walls, white door. Am I in heaven?

No, wait.

White bed, white blanket, white arm… which is bandaged tightly with gauze and tape.

If I was in heaven, God should have taken all the pain. But, damn, I am in _pain._

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Shit, was that my alarm clock?

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Nah, I heard this sound once while watching a drama. A drama about a dying patient.

I'm a patient?

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Oh, yes. I remember now. I had an 'episode'. How embarrassing. Hara Masako must've brought me here. That explains the patient part.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Am I dying?

I turn my head to the left, and there it is. A heart rate monitor. Its plug gets pulled out of a finger from my uninjured arm. The dextrose gets yanked out too. Ouch.

A flat beep filled the small hospital room. After five seconds of tense silence, I hear frantic shuffling from the other side of the plain white door before it was forcefully opened.

Several nurses anxiously bring in several intimidating machines of all shapes and sizes. The one with numerous _large_ needles definitely stood out. I think they were actually gonna plant every single one of those knitting sticks in me.

Just as a stupid nurse raised two rectangular metal thingies connected to one big machine, and yell "Clear!", she blinks and stares at me like she's seen a designer bag on sale for the first time.

"Good, er-" I hunt for a window, and I do find one, but I couldn't see beyond the curtains. "Morning?" I croaked. My throat hurts.

The nurse widened her eyes in return. Embarrassed, she blushed and stepped away as another female took her place.

The other woman had shocking red hair, her lips the same color. She's wearing a white lab coat (can I call it a lab coat?) with a stethoscope on her collar. Her make-up clad eyes were weary and squinting. Still, she had a regal air. She stood straight and dignified in her high heeled shoes.

I never knew a miko can be a doctor too.

She continues reading a clipboard. She seems pretty immersed in my records, as if she was reading a tragic novel. Well, my hospital record _is_ pretty tragic. It's filled with occasional trips, frequent fevers, one chicken pox incident, a suicide attempt…

"Leave me and my patient alone. I have to talk to her privately," she said. The nurses disperse, lugging their heavy machines with them.

Well, that's never a good sign. I wonder if she'll tell me how I'm already on the verge of dying.

I'm having mixed feelings about that.

"Taniyama-san, I'm quite… impressed with your medical record," she said as she put the dextrose and the plug back in my skin. I tried not to pout. "Were you always this reckless?" Oh wow. She pulls out a large injection.

"N –" I choked. I didn't even get to finish the two lettered word.

"Here you go." She hands me a cup of chamomile tea. Then she stabbed the inside of my elbow with the injection.

After glaring at her, and chugging the tea in two big gulps, I spit out a sour thank you.

"I'll just get on with it and tell you the news frankly, okay?" She tried to appear cheery, but she sounded so drained. "You only have a few scratches. Those will probably heal two to three days."

I nod.

"Your ankle will be healed in 6 weeks, more or less."

I nod.

"Your head may never heal."

I nod.

"You have traumatic brain injury."

I nod.

"We've already stabilized your condition so it's not very serious at the moment. It _will_ be if you let it stay that way."

I nod.

"If you agree to have an operation soon, you will still have eighty-five percent chance of survival at most. Is it fine for me to schedule it next week?"

I don't nod.

"If you're thinking about money, don't worry. Your mother left medical insurance for you."

_She did? Dammit, mom._ "I don't want it."

She looks at me incredulously. Her eyebrows rose and her lips ready to reprimand me. She doesn't though. She says my most hated word instead.

"Why?"

"Because."

"That's not a real answer."

"Okay."

She huffs out a heavy sigh and walks to the end of my bed to put the clipboard back. "Your friends are here to see you."

"Wait… uh –"

"Matsuzaki."

"Yes, um, Matsuzaki-sensei… Please don't tell anyone about my condition. Especially those two outside."

Her eyes softened. "Sure," she murmured. "I will talk to you later about the medicine you need to take."

Matsuzaki leaves the room and gently shuts the door behind her. One speaks quietly, and another screeches. I can guess who is who.

The pitiful door slams open once again. I wonder how many beatings it has taken since it resided in that jamb.

"YOU MORON!" Ah, Keiko. My best friend.

"I love you too," I sang. Michiru palmed her forehead in return.

"What, in Kami's name, are you trying to pull? I _know_ that you aren't this _stupid_!" Keiko's face is red from either crying, anger or both.

"I'm not trying to pull anything, really. I just tripped again. Nothing serious," I said, sticking my tongue out. Keiko comes forward and I open my arms as wide as I could. She embraces me right away.

"I want to punch you in the face."

"No, no. Not there, that still hurts. How about my gut?" I offered. She cracks a smile and sticks a finger to my side. Ow. Sore spot. I try not to wince.

"How are you feeling, kohai?" Michiru finally said. I'm more nervous around her than around Keiko. Her hawk eyes make it impossible for me to lie.

"I'm fine, _sempai_," I answered, my tone a bit resentful. "Parched, though." I said, eyeing the water bottle she's holding.

"That's your problem. Go get your own drink."

"Are you blind?"

"I don't think so."

"Are you dim?"

"According to my periodical exam results, no."

I grit my teeth. "Do I need to spell it out for you?"

"Hmm, maybe. Yes, yes. Go ahead." I can see that she's trying hard not to smile.

"I can't freaking stand, dummy."

"Bad luck, then."

"Just hand me the bottle, Michiru."

Keiko's bout of giggles explodes and both the girls share a minute or two of unhindered mirth. I just sat there clutching my flaming throat.

At last, _at effin' long last_, Michiru gives me the bottle… the empty bottle.

"Mich – ack!" My saliva reserves are down.

A chorus of guffaws salutes my dilemma.

"Fine, Taniyama-chan," she hands me another bottle of water. "Here you go."

I chug the content as if I was a camel drinking water for the first time after a month long journey in the desert.

"One more."

They hand me two bottles instead. The liquid from both was gone almost instantly.

"Thanks. Now, get out." I shoo them away using my left hand. "I want to sleep."

"But you just woke up!" Gah. Michiru's shrill voice is ringing in my ears.

"Good mornight," I yawned. I lie back down and pull my blanket up to my chin. Getting comfortable in my current position is another challenge I must face.

"Hey Mai, I brought some clothes and a few of your books. I know how easily you enter the wonderous land of boredom," Michiru deadpanned.

I hear a thud near me. "Your stuff is beside you, Mai. See you tommorrow," Keiko said. She pats my head.

_Click._ At least the door wasn't slammed this time.

A sigh escapes me as I doze off into a dreamless slumber.

-:-:-:-:-

A prick wakes me from the land of the semi-dead.

I open my eyes to a horrifying sight. I really was in a hospital. I thought I was only dreaming.

The room I'm in is relatively small. A leather couch and a small wooden table adorned the wall to my left, a curtained window behind them. Nothing was on the wall in front of me except a tiny television plastered to it, a clock, and a door in one corner. A closet sat beside my bed. The second door was next to the closet.

Damn. They're making me pay for a private room, insurance or not.

"Good afternoon, Taniyama-sama," said the lady who stabbed my arm with a needle. "I'm just giving you one more dose of morphine for the pain.

"How long was I out?" I croaked.

"You've been here for two days, miss," she said, somewhat mechanically.

"Great." I glance at the clock. It's 5:25. AM or PM, I'm not sure.

I get up with the intention of going to the bathroom, but I immediately sit back down. Vertigo.

"Let me help you," the nurse said listlessly. Looking at the dark circles under her eyes, I guess she pulled two or three shifts in a row.

I regret entering the bathroom once I look at myself in the mirror. I was as pale as pale can be. Part of my head was wrapped up in gauze. My eyes had bags heavier than the nurse's. My lips were full cracks and my hair was caked with blood.

Well, I've been in this situation before. No reason panicking.

As soon as I finish my business, I leave the bathroom to see that the nurse was still there.

She scuttled here and there, organizing organized things. She double checked whether the machines keeping me alive were aligned, straightened the snacks on the table my friends must have brought awhile ago, stacked some books on top of a bag.

Books. I pick one up, sit on the couch and start reading. I don't care how the walls were spinning, and how the letters flew as if I had dyslexia. I desperately needed something to distract me.

"Miss, you need to lie down. You are in no condition to read such a thick book," the nurse spat.

What the glaring nurse didn't know was that there was a kid in a crumpled hospital gown sitting on the edge of my bed. He was staring at the closet. I don't want to know what's in there.

The nurse finally left and I stay immersed in my book, not really understanding what I was reading. The sentence '_Do you know where Mr. Matthew Pocket lives?_' became '_Du yoa kpam mnere Mr. Nuttnem Packex itwes?'_. I had to read it four times before I got it right.

After a few more attempts, my vision started having black spots in them. I grip the thick book, close my eyes and lean my head back. I try to even my breathing as I count from one to ten.

…_Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten._ I open my eyes.

The boy was standing in front of me. He stayed motionless as he continued to stare.

I gather all the energy left in me and look him straight in the eyes. I realize that he wasn't looking at me; he was looking at the window behind me.

After a few tense seconds, he disappears. Just like that. As he disappeared, the door opens.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

I thought I have already freaked every one enough for them to stay away from me, and yet there he was. The Narcissus incarnate stood tall and high and mighty in front of me.

He had a chiseled face with lips and eyes that were somewhere between feminine beautiful and masculine handsome. He was clothed in black from head to toe. Even his hair was black. Maybe his toenails really _are_ painted black just for the sake of consistency.

"I see that you are awake now," he said. He sat on the edge of the bed, thankfully not where the strange boy was sitting in earlier.

"Yes." I don't even have enough energy to pull out a sarcastic remark.

"What are you reading?" he asked, although I don't think he was genuinely curious.

I sighed. "Aren't you supposed to ask about what happened in the base?"

"Yes, I suppose so." Davis/Shibuya/Naru – I'm really not sure what to call him – thrummed his slender fingers on his knee. "I don't need to though."

"Why?" I raise my gaze from his hand to his dark blue eyes. "Are you satisfied with the conclusion 'Mai is crazy'?"

"What are you reading?" he asked again, this time he really was curious.

Red dominated my vision. I throw the book at him, and with the little oomph I had in me, it didn't even reach his feet.

He picks it up, and his eyes widen immediately. Determination, fear, hope and disbelief. All of those passed through his eyes in less than two seconds. I've never seen that much emotion in him since I've met him.

He finds a piece of paper inside the book, and he laughed. It was a bitter, bitter laugh.

"That idiot."

-:-:-:-:-

A/N: Not much Naru action, eh? Don't worry, the next one's all about those two finally talking about… stuff ;) Thanks for sticking with me even though I'm probably annoying you guys with slow updates :/


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